En Vogue - "Hold On". Remember when girl groups could actually sing? OK, maybe you do. But do you remember them before hearing the acapella strains of "My Lovin' (Never Gonna Get It)"? If you do, you're either very, very gay or you had friends who were down with the New Jack sound before it hit the mainstream charts. Both apply to me, but I can't remember if someone at my elementary school gave me the Born to Sing cassette or if my nine-years-older brother did. At any rate, I was enthralled.

The original fab four were a match made in heaven. Incomparable voices—stylistically, technically, creatively. The vocal blend was perfect, even when they executed the simultaneous coloratura flourishes. "Hold On" was their very first single and an immediate hit. It opens with an acapella arrangement of Smokey Robison and the Miracles' [and thus, the Jackson 5's] "Who's Lovin' You." Then on the resolution of their last chord, a funky bassline kicks in with a little New Jack beat, punctuated by dissonant trumpet blasts ["played" by Djimon Hounsou in the video!!]. The lyrics, of course, are about as complex as a spoon, but I think that lends a charm that reminds one of the early, early days of true urban pop music. These are real musicians—the kind mom and dad don't mind you listening to. There's no studio trickery or enhancements. What you hear is what really happened in the recording booth. I only ever saw them lip-synch once on TV; every other time they performed, it was full-on vocals with minimal effects.

I won't tell you that I've downloaded almost all of their first three albums in the past two days. Or that I saw them live in Dallas at the beginning of their Funky Divas fame. Or that I compiled a VHS tape of every one of their videos and tons of interviews and live performances from 1990 to 1994—a tape that I had to hide from my mother so that she would think I were a big faggot [see top].

RZA - "Ich Kenne Nichts [feat. Xavier Naidoo]". A slight transition now. To end our Look Who's Collaborating with Björk on Her New Album Week, I'm offering a weekend bonus based on the rumor that the RZA has been in the studio with the Icelandic elfin/ice-princess/chanteuse/pixie/other-overused-pitchforkmedia.com-news-item-descriptor. The two did some work around the Homogenic era, eventually only releasing a remix of "Bachelorette." Apparently, RZA was on the Jimmy Kimmel show recently saying that he was again at work with Björk. This is exciting news, since RZA is the greatest producer of all time[?].

But rather than post the "Bachelorette" bit here, I've decided to put on the platter a slick 2003 German R&B track that's the equivalent of a Berlin sidewalk after a sunshining rainstorm. This is a RZA-produced song with vocals [mit Deutsch lyrics] from Xavier Naidoo, German popstar of South African and Indian descent. The two won a German Echo Award on March 9th for Best International Single.

Björk - "Synchronicity". There's a lighter side to this vocal exploration that Björk's doing lately. This is a little 1:12 impromptu [vaguely schaffel-esque] tune that was put together by Björk and Icelandic engineer Valgeir Sigurdsson, presumably from material that was initially recorded during October/November of 2003 by Matmos, self-proclaimed "cut-up artists" [get it?].

If not, here's the joke. The tune was written for inclusion in a video documentary about the skateboarding team Hot Chocolate's month-long tour. Directed by Spike Jonze and Ty Evans, the video includes interviews, skits, and some rad skateboarding.


[click to download 1.98 MB Windows Media video]

Ah! Now it makes sense!


P.S. Return tomorrow for another Weekend Bonus!

Björk - "Nameless [feat. Leila]". Here we have another live track—a new song performed on the 2003 Summer Tour. Originally, this song was nothing more than a sketch—no title and no lyrics. But as it developed, it remained open-ended, to be improvised within a rough outline every single time it was performed. Thus it took the name "Nameless" in order to convey the slightly creepy uncertainty of both Björk's vocals [which, as one can hear, approach a vastly different style than we're used to from her—especially the almost operatic upper notes] and Leila's mixing of pre-recorded and live samples of Björk's voice.

Leila Arab began working with Björk way back in the Debut years, serving as keyboardist and back-up vocalist. During her Post tour, Leila tried her hand at live mixing. After that, she went on to make a critically sucessful album, which was released on Rephlex Records. Her talents have no doubt increased with acquired technical and life experience. "Nameless," in particular, showcases two ladies in the music world that live on separate planets that have been lucky enough to align for a few magical moments. The result is an anthem to surrealism—washes of a synth, wailing, sighing, implosions of harmonics, and Björk's Icelandic jibberish scat lyrics.

It'll leave you going, "What the fjükk?"

P.S. It was difficult deciding which version to post. Some of the performances are vastly different. This take is from the Arena di Verona performance. If you can get your hands on two others, find the one from the Fuji Rock Festival and from Shepherds Bush.

Dokaka - "Angel of Death". Dokaka was only added to the list of Björk collaborators on the 14th of this month, two days after he wrapped recording sessions with her in New York.

Dokaka is a Japanese beatbox artists whose onomatopoeic name is derived from a series of percussive syllables he uses for making drumbeats in his acapella recordings. This tune is one of the remakes for which he's gathered a small cult fanbase. "Angel of Death," a Slayer standard is prime fodder for one of Dokaka's vocal arrangements. Afterall, he doesn't just beatbox the drumbeats; he adds a little of the touch of what Björk calls "modern doo-wop," figuring in layers of instrumental melodic and harmonic textures. It's not too difficult to see how he'd be of use in the new Björk album. If you're just joining in, this post explains this week's prospectus.

I haven't found much information on him or his background. His website sort of skimps on the biographical details, but it does offer tons more tracks to download! Enjoy.

Björk - "Hidden Place [feat. Tagaq]". Tanya "Tagaq" Gillis is a native of the small Inuit town of Iqaluktuutiaq Nunavut, located on southern Victoria Island, Canada. While studying visual arts at the Nova Scotia College of Art, she became enraptured by the world of music and began exploring traditional Inuit throat singing. This sort differs from Tuvan throat singing in that it does not rely on harmonics so much as the percussive and resonant qualities of the thoracic, laryngeal, pharyngeal, and oral cavities. Inuit women in the past would use their throats and bodies to recreate the sounds of nature and incorporate them into a game whereby one singer would create a vocal pattern and her opponent would be required to match the pattern in rhythm, timbre, and pitch directly after the former had finished. The latter would then improvise a new pattern which the former would repeat, and they would volley back in forth in this manner. The first contestant to smile, laugh, or fumble on a pattern would lose.

Tagaq is not content with simply engaging in games and recreating a vocal museum of anthropology. During college, she had been exposed to electronica, dance, and rave music and sought to blend them with the traditional techniques of her heritage. When Björk heard Tagaq's voice on a documentary about Iceland, she immediately flew her to New York to record with her and just after employed her talents on 2001's Vespertine Tour. Tagaq was a perfect addition to the ensemble, as Björk [and by association, Vespertine] was deeply concerned with internalization, passion, love, carnal exploration, the primal excretions [both physical and vocal] of the human body.

Tagaq's solo at the beginning of this live recording from London gives us an idea of how vast the spectrum of the human voice is and how rich the palette from which Björk may draw for the new album. Just how the noises will be incorporated remains [as with many of Björk's dealings] a mystery.

P.S. Keep an ear out for the amazing swells at 0:58 and 1:03!

This week, I'll be taking a look at some of the artists that are reported to be collaborating with Björk on her forthcoming album. There's really not a lot of information on it, but one thing that she did reveal is that the new work might be termed "modern doo-wop." By listening to some of the bits and pieces she's been working on, it seems that Björk is looking to do lots of experimentation with her voice—both her vocal technique and the processing of samples of the voice. Where it'll all lead, no one really knows.

Bear with me. Some mp3s this week will be live performances; I want to be able to showcase the sort of work the artists have done with Björk so far… at least when possible.

Squirt!

A slide-show essay about how the San Francisco Public Library converted a homophobic vandal's crime into art.



Via Slate.

A Flash movie depicting the construction/composition of a microhouse tune using only the Windows system sounds and the functions included on the Windows Sound Recorder software.

Windows Noises by Clown Staples

Mochipet - "Yes vs. NoMeansNo". OH HOLY DOOKIE! MASHUP OF YES AND SOME GRIZZLY ROCK BAND THAT'S BEEN AROUND SINCE 1981 AND ONE THAT I WON'T PRETEND TO KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT.

Seriously, you should check out Mochipet's new album Combat. It's a snarly, glichty, speedbreak compilation of mashups… like Johnny Cash vs. Cash Money Millionaires, Barry White vs. White Stripes vs. White Lion, Aphex Twin vs. the Thompson Twins. Get it? Nice title too. Ohhh, now you get it.

Not all the tracks are this mind-blowingly good. They don't all make me shit myself. But at their weakest points, like, my ass falls off, puts its finger in a socket, and starts doing the electric slide.

FOR FUCK'S SAKE, WHY DID YOU MAKE ME LISTEN TO THIS ALBUM? I'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO FALL ASLEEP EVER AGAIN!


P.S. Join me next week when I take a look at the individual artists with whom Björk is collaborating on her new album. Zang!

Xiu Xiu - "Fabulous Muscles". No, this isn't the version from the new album by the same name. This is the cut from the earlier-released InSound Tour Support EP split with the Jim Yoshii Pile-Up. Unlike the sparse take on the full album, the one heard here is less breathy, more impassioned, more raw, and more violent. Jamie flubs a couple of the high pitches, but there's no telling if it's intentional or merely the result of his committing to a laryngeal strangulation for the sake of intensity. Still, with a little bit of found-object percussion and some vocal doubling from a female bandmate, I certainly prefer this version.

Oh, and in case you've never heard the song at all…

Break my face in
Was the kindest touch
You ever gave.
Wrap my dreams around
Your thighs, and
Drag my hope upon
The chance to touch your arm.

Fabulous muscles,
Cremate me after you cum on my lips!
Honey boy,
Place my ashes in a vase
Beneath your workout bench.

No romance—
No sexiness—but
The star-filled night.
Kneeling down before
The now-familiar flesh
Of your deformed penis.
Wigging out before
The unfamiliar flesh
Of my broken neck.

Luomo - "Tessio". I hate the term "microhouse" as much as the next guy, but maybe the next guy hasn't heard Luomo. For me, this song's everything I still need to say to the love of my life—the guy who needed to "be on his own" after three years. Those words that you can recite over and over in your head, but when the moment comes—when your heart starts beating and the music swells—all you can muster are echos and portions of those words. It's a beautifully jumbled stammer of apologies, confessions, and idol worship.

That's not to say this song [or the entire album The Present Lover] is just for lying around at home with your tea, photo albums, and that ill-advised fleece throw blanket. I took it with me for a walk two days ago. It played seven times on repeat over the course of an hour and a half. I suggest you take it with you in the lengthened late afternoon sun. I don't suggest, however, that you fill a sippy cup with malt liquor and take it with you. Stumbling home with an mp3 player in hand is not cool.

i guess you turn me on
when you're gone.
for me, it didn't go wrong;
we just made another song
both getting it alone,
never asking it for long.
it's just that the world ain't enough,
and it never was
for the two of us

i guess you make me warm
when you do the harm,
making everybody calm,
getting creative with your charm.
i'm trying to be all yours;
although i ain't answering your calls.
don't say it's false;
i'm only following my thoughts.

baby it's ok,
we'll make it better.
baby, i, i'll survive,
without these women in my life.

Karen Finley - "Belgian Waffles". Make no mistake: Karen Finley is angry. She has every right to be. What other emotion is appropriate when you hear the story of a drug-addled man on a rampage during Thanksgiving smearing yams on his grandmother's buttocks? Don't expect a catchy hook here. As one of the infamous NEA Four, Finley was and may still be regarded as vuglar and obscene. Whether that's the case is purely subjective. But her intent isn't to titilate.

What she is interested in, however, is, among other things, unveiling abuse of power, racism, sexism, age-ism, and male dominance in sexuality. How does she do this? By saying "cock, "clit," and "shit" a lot; by writing an entirely serious book of erotica; by performing impromptu lapdances on audience members; and by covering her body with everything from honey to candy hearts to chocolate syrup. Laugh if you want. But don't laugh for the young woman she's comemmorating—Tawana Brawley, a 16-year-old black woman in upstate New York, who was found dumped in a garbage bag with feces covering her body, who said she was sexually assaulted by four white men [including a cop], and who was later accused of making of the scenario. Even if the whole thing was a hoax, when you're sixteen and poop is your last resort—your final method of communication—something's clearly wrong. Karen Finley's making shit, dick, and clit the first options—inverting perversion, speaking out for our First Amendment rights.

[To Jessie Helms:]

I want those weiners in my cock.
Oh, I've got a cock, too!
Ooh, It's called a clitoris,
And you never knew what,
Ooh, boy, get me off, off, too.
Ooh, I'm swimmin' in my piss,
And I'm gonna shit in your ears.
Ooh, shit, boy! Just shit in my mouth!
Ooh, fuck me, you bastard-bitch!
Ooh, you don't own me!

Kerrier District - "Let's Dance and Freak". Believe it or not [actually… believe it], Kerrier District was produced by Luke Vibert. Sonically, it almost seems impossible, but once you learn that none of the tracks on the album were produced live, it begins to make sense. Luke Vibert's masterful touch has every beat and effect programmed just so—so perfectly that the feel of the music is that of disco recorded live in a studio. The hi-hats have just the right smash, the claps are muted, the synths are charmingly primitive. The ambience hasn't the hyperisolated bass thump of modern dance music; instead it is dark and narrow like the grooves of best Salsoul releases on vinyl.

It's important to hear the spectrum of Rephlex Records' taste in dance music. Gabba posted a track from the Rephlex re-release of the 1978 Italo album Disco Club, by Black Devil. And here we have a recent release on the same label. The palpability and freshness of both are evidence of two things. One, that disco was and continues to be a viable musical form, both for personal listening and for clubs, even without any apparent irony with regard to the genre's lamé'd and leisure-suited past. And two, that even the oddest inhabitants of Rephlex' fucked-up planet, past and present, like to shake their respective asses.